


I Was a Teenage Tentacle Alien

by Green



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alien Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Shapeshifting, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and his family crash landed on Earth years ago and were forced to blend in. Now they're being rescued but Stiles doesn't want to leave -- especially now that he's started a relationship with Derek. </p>
<p>Written for Tentacle Big Bang, so tentacles feature heavily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was a Teenage Tentacle Alien

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, you HAVE to check out [mific's art for this story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/773519). It's so fantastic and gorgeous I can't even. I've been so excited about showing it to everyone since I first saw it. It's THE BEST.
> 
> mific also provided the beta reading for this fic, and she did a fantastic job. Thank you, bb! also thanks to majoline for being the best cheerleader in the world. I don't know how I would get anything done without her.

Sometimes, Stiles forgets. It’s easy to forget, the way they live now. They have a house instead of a ship, and there are trees all around instead of the stars of deep space. Plus, Stiles has other things to think about these days rather than the fact that he’s an alien from another planet.

Like werewolves. Werewolves exist. Not only do they exist, but they’re a big part of his life now. He even has a big ole crush on one of them. At least he can admit it now. Derek Hale, Alpha werewolf, is the most recent object of his affections. He somehow wormed his way into Stiles’s heart without trying. At least, Stiles is pretty sure he didn’t try. He certainly didn’t go about it the traditional way.

So yeah, werewolves. And none of them know Stiles’s secret.

* * *

“Did you do your homework?”

Stiles sighs. “Yes. Don’t I always do my homework?”

The only person who knows Stiles is actually a shapeshifting being (he doesn't like the word 'alien') from outer space is his father. That’s because he’s one, too. 

“Did you check the beacon?”

Oh, yes. The emergency beacon, the one that’s been sending out a distress signal since they crash landed on Earth ten years ago.

“It’s still beaconing,” Stiles says.

His dad rounds the corner and offers Stiles a plate. “And have you taken your true form lately?”

Busted. “I’ll do it tonight,” Stiles says, taking a bite of toast.

“Stiles,” his dad says, his voice exasperated. “You know you have to do it at least once a week or you’ll get unstable.”

It’s been two weeks since Stiles took his true form. He’s been busy with Scott and Derek and the rest of the pack. Stuff keeps coming up in Beacon Hills. First it was the Alpha pack, then pixies, then witches. The latest big evil didn’t even have a name, just long talons and a sharp beak.

“I know. Tonight, I promise,” Stiles says. He takes a long gulp of orange juice and grabs his backpack.

“I’m working tonight,” his dad reminds him. There’s nothing new in that. He works a lot, as much as he can. He has since Stiles's mom died.

"Okay," Stiles says, and then he's out the door and getting in his Jeep.

* * *

After school, Stiles stops by the bakery and picks up his order. Then he drives to the Hale house and lets himself in. 

"What's this?" Derek asks as soon as he sees him.

Stiles grins and opens up the giant flat box he's carrying. "Cupcakes!"

"Cupcakes?" Erica says, coming around the corner. "What's the occasion?"

The rest of the pack materializes and they all look at Stiles in question.

"What, no one knows but me?" Stiles asks. "It's Derek's birthday."

"How did you-?" Derek asks.

Stiles waves his hand. "Peter. Eat up now. There's three different flavors but I don't know which are which."

"These are from that fancy bakery in town," Isaac says. Stiles can practically hear his thoughts. The cupcakes were expensive. But the way Stiles sees it, they’re absolutely worth it if they make Derek moan like _that_ on first bite.

Stiles wonders if it's getting hot in the house or if it's just him reacting to Derek. Again.

Jackson bites into his cupcake and then says, "Dark chocolate raspberry. God, this is good."

Boyd nods and takes his second cupcake. 

"C'mon, Stiles. Eat one," Erica says.

Stiles looks at Derek. There's a little bit of pink frosting at the corner of his mouth, and Stiles wants to lick it away. He takes a big bite of cupcake instead.

His eyes roll back at his first taste. It's some kind of mocha cream frosting over devil's food cake. Before he can stop himself, he's moaning obscenely.

When he opens his eyes again, it's to find Derek's gaze on him. Stiles licks his lips and feels a thrill when Derek's eyes flick down to follow the movement of his tongue.

They haven't done anything about this tension between them. They haven't talked about it, or even acknowledged it in any way. Stiles is just waiting for the right moment, and has been for weeks. He gets the feeling Derek is waiting, too. But something always comes up: like the big bird-monster.

But nothing is happening today. Stiles had something to do, but at the moment, looking at Derek, he can't remember what it was. He knows his dad isn't home so he doesn't have to go anytime soon. And Derek is looking at him like he wants to eat him up.

Erica mutters something under her breath, winks at Stiles, and leaves the room. The others follow her soon after.

"Scott had a thing with Allison," Stiles says when they're alone. "I told him it was a special occasion, but he gets pretty single minded."

Derek moves closer so that he's right up in Stiles's space. The heat from his body is comforting and arousing at the same time. "I don't care about Scott."

Stiles can feel his skin tingle. "Okay. So. What do we do now that we're alone?"

"You don't know?" Derek says. Teases. He's a big flirting tease. It makes Stiles smile.

"Yeah, I think I know," Stiles whispers. And then Derek is kissing him and Stiles is moaning into his mouth and clutching his shoulders so he won't fall over if — _when_ — his knees buckle.

Derek's arms are all around him, holding him in place, pulling him closer against his body. Stiles loses control over his thoughts, his mind is just going _more more more_ , and that's where he fucks up.

He loses _control_.

He feels a familiar prickling sensation all over and a shiver down his back as his true form begins to appear. It's early, he hasn't shifted yet. He has time to push Derek away and shake his head. "Shit. I can't-" he says, and he knows he has to tell. He's got to come clean with Derek about everything. He knows Derek's secrets and now...

Now it's time to share his own. He's kept it from him long enough, and if they're going to be together, or whatever this means, then he owes it to him to be honest.

Derek is watching him, confusion written all over his face. "I thought we were both..." He doesn't finish the thought, but yeah, Stiles understands.

"We are," Stiles says. "I just have something to tell you first."

"Your scent changed," Derek says slowly. "And your skin..."

Stiles pushes up a sleeve and looks at his arm. Sure enough, it has a sheen to it like he's made of opal. "Yeah. That's part of it."

Derek is still watching him, his eyes roaming over his face and down his body, as if looking for other changes. Stiles is grateful that the surprises on his back haven't come out to play. How would he explain sudden tentacles?

He does he explain any of this?

"I'm waiting," Derek says. "It must be pretty bad if you're at a loss for words."

"Oh, ha freaking ha," Stiles says, but it makes him smile.

Derek leans close and takes a deep breath in. "Your underlying scent is stronger. Why?"

Stiles bites his lip. "I'm not from around here," he starts to say, but then a ringtone cuts through the serious conversation with the whistling theme from The Andy Griffith Show. "Fuck. It's Dad, hold on a sec." He answers the phone with a hopefully cheerful sounding, "Yep!"

"You need to get home right away," his father says over the line.

Stiles looks at Derek, knowing he can hear both sides with his freakishly keen werewolf senses. "I'm kinda in the middle of something right now," he says. 

"Stiles. This is important. I need you here _now_." His dad sounds freaked out.

"Why aren't you at work? What happened?" Stiles asks.

"Someone picked up on the beacon and decided to investigate."

Stiles almost drops the phone. His knees go weak and Derek is there to hold him up before he sinks down. "Shit," Stiles whispers.

"So as I said: Home. Now."

Stiles is flipping out. He's going to have a panic attack right here in Derek Hale's arms — how did he get there in the first place? — and it's not going to be pretty.

He ends the call and tries to remember how to breathe. His skin is rippling with the need to transform. There's a pulling sensation at his back where his tentacles are trying to grow. His heart is racing and he feels cold all over, like someone threw icy water on him.

"Calm down," Derek says quietly. "Calm down and tell me what's going on. What beacon? Who's come?"

"I can't. I have to. I don't." Stiles looks at Derek pleadingly, needing him to understand.

"This is bad, isn't it," Derek says in a monotone. "How bad?"

Stiles _will not_ hyperventilate. He shakes his head to answer the question, knowing it's not really an answer at all. He's got to get out of there and get home. He's not entirely sure he should drive like this, though. 

"Want a lift?" Derek asks.

Stiles nods, relieved. "Please."

Derek presses his lips against Stiles's temple and squeezes him. "You're telling me everything as soon as possible."

"I want to," Stiles says. "I just don't know how."

Derek nods and grabs his jacket. "C'mon. It'll be easier if we take your Jeep. I can make my way back home."

Ordinarily, Stiles wouldn't let anyone drive his baby. But this is a special circumstance, and he sees the wisdom in Derek's idea.

The way back to town is quiet. Stiles is still panicking. He's thinking about his home planet, Selexis. He hasn't seen it since he was young. His family spent more time cruising space in their ship, exploring new galaxies, than they did on solid ground. But he remembers that his mom had a garden on Selexis, and that she grew flowers that seemed to sing when the wind rocked them. He remembers the technology, far advanced beyond Earth's. He remembers all the other Selexins who looked like him, with the same shiny skin and tentacles. He remembers he didn't have to hide there. 

But now. Now the thought of going back there is confusing the hell out of him. 

"Can you tell me anything?" Derek asks.

Stiles turns to look at him. Derek _cares_. He's worried about Stiles and maybe even his dad. Stiles wants to tell him everything. He says, "How do you feel about UFOs? You a skeptic?"

Derek pulls he Jeep over on the side of the road. They're only a few streets away from home, Stiles recognizes vaguely. Derek puts the Jeep in park and turns his focus completely to Stiles. "Are you telling me you're- Are you fucking around, Stiles?"

Stiles drops his gaze and twists his hands together . "I'm not from around here. Earth. We're — my dad and me — we're from a place called Selexis. Another planet."

Derek sits back hard in the seat and looks off to the side for a moment before looking at Stiles again. "You're serious."

"Yes," Stiles whispers.

"You're an _alien_ ," Derek says.

Stiles winces. "I really hate that word. Makes me sound like … I don't know. Weird."

"Do you prefer extraterrestrial?" Derek asks with a strained smile.

Stiles huffs a laugh. "Not really. I prefer to be called Stiles, actually. Or a Selexin, if you're getting technical."

"You aren't human," Derek says. He doesn't seem as freaked out as Stiles thought he'd be.

"Well, neither are you?" Stiles says.

"What happened to your skin? And your scent?" Derek asks.

"I'm a shapeshifter. But I have a true form I need to revert to every once in awhile, and I haven't done it in two weeks, and I sort of lost control of my shape and started to change," Stiles explains. "I guess the way I smell changes with it."

His phone buzzes at him, notifying him of a text from his father. _where are you?_

"What does it look like? Your true form?" Derek asks, pulling the Jeep back onto the road..

"Shiny, mostly," Stiles says, hedging.

"And what else?"

Stiles takes a deep breath and then blurts it out. "Tentacles. I have tentacles, okay?"

Derek swerves into the other lane for a moment. Luckily, the street is empty. 

"Dude, watch it. I like all my bits attached," Stiles says.

"Tentacles," Derek says faintly. Then stronger, "Like Cthulhu? Or a squid? How many are we talking?"

Stiles laughs. He has to, it's just _funny_. He'd never thought he'd be able to tell Derek the truth, so he'd never imagined what his reaction would be. That he wants to know if Stiles's true form is anything like one of Lovecraft's monsters is just hysterical.

When he catches his breath and they're parked in Stiles's driveway, Stiles says, "I only have four. They're attached at my back, on either side of my spine."

Derek looks like he's going to need some time.

"Look, just. Can you sneak in my window and wait for me in my room?" _Because I might need you after this_ , he thinks, but doesn't have the emotional maturity to say. At least he can admit it to himself — he needs Derek to be there.

Derek seems to understand. He reaches over and touches Stiles's cheek with the back of his hand. It's gentle. Stiles was worried Derek would never touch him again after learning the truth. Derek nods. "I'll be there."

Stiles feels better knowing Derek is going to be waiting whenever this — whatever _this_ is — is over.

* * *

Stiles walks into the house and hears his dad call out, "In the living room!"

The first thing Stiles notices when he walks into the room is that his dad is half-changed into his true form, skin shimmering. The next thing is that the stranger in the room is half hidden by a shadow. No, not a shadow, a camouflaging cloud of black. Stiles recognizes him for what he is: a darkling. Darklings are from the same galaxy as Selexis, and many of them moved there from their own planet of Graes. Stiles hasn't seen a darkling in close to eleven years.

"Sit down, Stiles," his father says.

"Salutations," the darkling says. "I am Roe." His face is shrouded but his black eyes glitter. The foreignness, the alien-like features, are disconcerting after so long.

"Roe heard the distress signal while he was passing this way and came to see who needed help," Stiles's dad says.

Stiles nods. He knows Derek will be able to hear everything from Stiles's room. He thinks about how he should show Derek his true form, and how he's afraid to. He couldn't stand to be rejected. He's been waiting too long for Derek and he doesn't want it going wrong just because he has tentacles sometimes.

"I told your father my ship will not accommodate two more passengers," Roe says. "I've sent a missive to Selexis, though. Your rescue should come soon."

_Rescue_. Stiles heard the word constantly during his first years on Earth, and his mother had hopes for a rescue until her death. Selexin medicine could have saved her, Stiles thinks. This 'rescue' is too late.

Roe looks pleased. Stiles's dad looks uncomfortable. 

"How long do we have?" Stiles asks. He feels bitter. "Before we have to decide?"

"Stiles," his father says gently. "There's no decision to make; we're going. Selexis is home."

Stiles shakes his head. "We can't just _leave_ ," he says. "Dad, you haven't cared about being rescued since Mom..."

"I lost hope," his dad says, frowning. "But that doesn't mean-"

"No," Stiles says. "Don't say it. Just... how long?"

"The missive must reach Selexis, and then a rescue ship will be sent," Roe says immediately. "Two cycles, no more."

Stiles does a quick Selexin-to-Earth calculation and winces. Eight days. He's only got _eight days_ until...

Until.

"I've got homework," Stiles says numbly, and turns to leave.

His father clears his throat like he's going to say something else, but in the end he remains silent. Stiles trudges up the stairs to his room.

He closes his bedroom door and collapses against it, eyes closed, letting out a long breath. He wants to scream. To cry. To punch his father for keeping the beacon going in the first place.

But he wants to see Selexis again. The pink and orange skies, the singing flowers, the glass buildings that always shine in the bright sunlight. His old home, the one with his mom's garden in the back. The people: Selexins who look like him, or the other species who visit the planet or have settled there and call it home.

The rescue means leaving the pack, though. Leaving Scott. Leaving _Derek_.

Derek, who is moving away from the dark corner now and closer to Stiles.

"You heard?" Stiles asks. He's tired, he hears it in his own voice, but more than that he's confused and scared.

"How long is two cycles?" Derek asks quietly.

"A week and a day," Stiles says. He wants Derek to come closer, to hold him, to tell him it'll be okay. That it doesn't change the way they feel about each other.

Derek moves away and sits on the bed. "C'mere."

Stiles sits next to him and lets his head fall to Derek's shoulder. It's all the weakness he's going to allow himself to show. He's waiting for Derek to ask the big question: does he really want to be rescued? Stiles doesn't know how to answer that, so he's dreading the inevitable query.

Except Derek doesn't ask. He says, "Growing up around here was different. I was one way at home, where I could be myself, but I had to hide it from all the humans once I started school. Sometimes I didn't understand them. And then when I got home, it was a relief, but-"

"But you wished you could be one way or the other all the time?" Stiles asks softly.

Derek wraps an arm around Stiles's shoulders and squeezes. "Yeah."

Maybe he isn't going to ask the question. Maybe Stiles can just talk and tell him everything else. "We've been here ten years," he starts off with. "Before that, we lived on the ship. Me, my dad, and my mom. Mom was kind of a cartographer, only with star maps. She mostly worked in an office on Selexis, did since before I was born, but she really loved exploring. So when I was seven and old enough for FTL travel, we took off. We did that for about six months. But before the ship, we lived on Selexis."

Derek is rubbing Stiles's arm and not pulling away. Stiles wishes he knew what he was thinking. Too bad telepathy didn't come along in Selexin evolution. 

"Selexis was — is — beautiful," Stiles says. "You know when a sunrise paints the sky orange and pink? Selexis is like that all the time. I don't remember everything about the place, since I was pretty young when I left, but sometimes I miss looking at other people and knowing they're like me; that no matter what form they take, underneath it they have iridescent skin and tentacles. And I miss the soup my mom used to make, the stuff I always called zoozoo. I have no idea what's in it or how to make it, but I miss it." He sighs and hides his face in the crook of Derek's neck. "Most of all, I hate having to hide. I miss just being myself."

"You don't have to hide it from me anymore," Derek says.

Stiles picks his head up and looks at him. Feeling brave, he asks, "Do you want to see? I have to change anyway or it'll come out on its own."

"If you don't mind," Derek says. 

Stiles moves away from him and peels out of his hoodie and shirts. Then he lets the change take over. 

It's a relief to revert to his natural form. After staying in his all human, all the time body for two weeks, it's nice to be himself. He's worried, though. Not about the skin thing, he knows his skin is cool. But the tentacles will seem so _alien_ to Derek. Even though Derek knows now, in theory, that Stiles has them, seeing them in the light of day might make him want to back off.

Stiles bites his lip as his shiny tentacles stretch out from his spine and then curl around his arms and shoulders, undulating slightly. The smooth, slippery texture feels good against Stiles's skin. 

Derek is sitting on the bed with an unreadable expression on his face. "They're … different."

"Well, yeah," Stiles says, a little defensive.

"No, I mean they're different," Derek says. "The ones resting on your shoulders are different from the ones wrapped around your arms."

Stiles flushes and that means his skin will appear even more luminous. He hopes Derek doesn't notice. "These," Stiles says, stroking the thin end of one of his tentacles, "Are more tendril-like. They're not as strong. The lower two are more, um, blunt? They're kind of hard on the inside."

Derek swallows; Stiles can see his adam's apple bob. "Can I touch?"

Oh boy. "They're sensitive. But yeah."

"How sensitive?" Derek asks, touching the tip of one of the upper tentacles, then moving his hand down lower to touch the head of one of the stronger ones.

Stiles breath catches when Derek wraps a loose hand around a lower tentacle. "Very."

"You like this," Derek says. He's just exploring, he's only _curious_ ; he has no idea what he's doing to Stiles. 

What he's doing to Stiles is turning him on. "Yeeess," Stiles says.

And then Derek leans in and kisses him, still touching the one tentacle, grip tightening. Stiles lets out a sigh and kisses back, hands flying to Derek's upper arms, holding on for dear life.

"You're gorgeous like this," Derek whispers against his mouth.

Stiles breaks away and looks down at himself, at his sparkling skin and writhing tentacles. "Like _this_?" He's normal for a Selexin, but to someone used to humans and werewolves, he knows it's weird.

"Mmm, yeah," Derek says, and strokes a thumb over the head of the tentacle he's still holding. "And the way you smell is incredible."

Stiles moans at what Derek is doing. It's obscene. His tentacles are almost as sensitive as his cock, which is hard and eager in his jeans. Stiles bites his lip hard to keep from whimpering.

"You smell like you and sweetness and sex," Derek tells him. 

"Like me?" Stiles asks breathlessly. He really shouldn't be echoing everything Derek says, but he can't seem to stop.

"Yeah. Like you've always smelled, only so much stronger. It's..." Derek buries his nose in Stiles's neck and inhales deeply. One of Stiles's upper tentacles wraps around the back of Derek's neck on its own, teasing his skin. Derek makes a short, quiet sound. 

"Okay?" Stiles asks. He still feels shy about it.

"Don't stop," Derek says.

So Stiles doesn't. He smiles, growing braver, and pushes Derek down on the bed, then straddles his hips. Derek looks up at him and smiles back encouragingly. 

"I've never done this before. As myself," Stiles admits. He fooled around once with Marcy Bryant and they did the shirtless thing, but it was as a human. He's never even shown his tentacles to an Earthling before; this is all new ground.

Derek slides his hands up from Stiles's knees to his thighs and lets them rest there. "We can go slow."

Stiles shakes his head. "I don't want slow. I want-"

"Maybe _I_ need to go slow," Derek cuts in. Stiles tries not to be disappointed but it doesn't last long; Derek cups him through his jeans and says, "But we'll take care of this."

Stiles doesn't even try to bite it back this time — he whimpers. "Yeah, okay." He leans down and takes Derek's lower lip between his teeth. His tentacles roam under Derek's shirt and slide slick and slow across his skin. Derek moans as the smaller tendrils tease his nipples, and Stiles bites back a smug grin. Maybe having tentacles isn't so bad.

They kiss, slow and deep. Stiles begins to rock his body, his hardness against Derek's. 

Derek's hands are everywhere. He touches Stiles with his eyes open, like he enjoys the sight of his hands on the opalescent skin. Maybe he does. Their eyes meet and then Stiles is unbuckling Derek's belt slowly, dragging the moment out even though he wants to rush. Derek gets with the program and his hands move to Stiles's fly.

It takes a little wiggling and readjusting, but soon they're skin to skin and Stiles is braced up over Derek's body, a tentacle encircling both their cocks. It's slick and perfect, and both of them moan at the squeezing sensation.

"I could get used to this," Derek says hoarsely, and Stiles smiles at him because yeah, he wants that too.

Stiles thrusts against Derek, into the circle of his slick tentacle. He's jerked off like this before, but never with someone else. He knows how to make it good, though.

"Tighter," Derek gasps, but Stiles is already doing it. The tentacle undulates and tightens, pressing their cocks together and leaving only a little room for movement. Derek jerks and rocks, moaning at the feel of it. 

Stiles is close. Any move either of them makes feels incredible. He leans down to capture Derek's lips again, and then he's crying out against Derek's mouth as his orgasm hits him hard.

"Yeah, like that," Derek gasps, and reaches between them to slide his fingers through Stiles's come. Then he brings his hand to his mouth, tasting. He sucks on his fingers for long enough for Stiles to get an idea.

One blunt tentacle comes up to tease at Derek's mouth, and Derek automatically opens up and lets it in. He sucks, and if Stiles only had ten more minutes, he'd be coming again from the feeling of fucking Derek's mouth.

Derek moans around the thick, thrusting tentacle while Stiles jerks him off faster. Stiles grabs his wrists and pins him down so he won't buck Stiles off the bed. Now Derek sounds like he's going crazy for it, closer and closer to orgasm.

"Good, yeah?" Stiles says. "You look better than the best porn I've ever seen."

Derek sounds better than porn, too, he’s muffled, close to gagging, but still urging Stiles on with every stifled moan. And then he comes, arching off the bed, thrusting into the circle of the slick tentacle that's pumping his cock.

Some time later, Derek is snuggled behind him, the big spoon, and Stiles says, "That was amazing." But then reality comes crashing back into him and he remembers Roe and what that means for him and his dad.

"Try to get some rest," Derek says.

"I don't know if I can sleep knowing Dad wants us to leave," Stiles whispers, as if saying it quietly will make it less true. "Just like that. No … no discussion or anything."

"Talk to him about it tomorrow," Derek says reasonably. 

Stiles's tentacles curl around Derek's arms, keeping them close together. "Will you stay?"

"Just until dawn," Derek says.

Stiles picks his head up and looks at the clock. It's a few minutes before midnight. "Happy birthday."

Derek huffs a laugh. "Thanks."

* * *

"Roe's gone, then?" Stiles asks his father in the morning.

"He left shortly after you went up to do your homework," his dad says.

Stiles nods and runs a hand over his face. He's still tired; he didn't get much sleep, even in Derek's arms. "I want to talk to you about something."

"Son, I already told you — we're going."

"Think about what that'll mean for me. Not just everyone I'm leaving on Earth, but what it'll be like for me on Selexis again. I've spent the last ten years being more or less human. I don't remember much about Selexin culture or manners or anything like that!" Stiles tries to explain.

His father frowns. "I would have thought you'd like going back, being among your own kind again."

"It would be nice not to hide," Stiles says carefully. "But I don't need it. I like it here. Don't you like it here? I know you love your job."

"I'm Selexin," his dad says.

Stiles lets out a frustrated breath. "Well, I'm not! I don't feel like one, at least. I've been human for longer than I was Selexin."

"Your species isn't something you can turn off," his father says. "You don't lose it. You're not human, no matter how long you pretend to be."

"What if I told you I decided I'm not going back?" Stiles asks.

"This is one thing you don't have a choice in," his dad says.

"Maybe if you'd give me a choice I'd choose to go! But no, you're not even giving me the courtesy," Stiles says bitterly.

"You're still my son and my responsibility. It's up to me to make the right decisions for you," his dad says.

"Will you just listen to yourself? This is my life!" Stiles says, yelling now, feeling fear and anger in the pit of his stomach. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I have been for awhile now. You just haven't noticed." He grabs his keys and his phone and he's ready to go out the door.

"Stiles!" his father says. "You're going back to Selexis with me, and that's final!"

Stiles shakes his head and slams the front door. He gets in his Jeep and rests his head against the steering wheel for a moment. So much for a calm conversation.

He heads to Scott's.

* * *

"So I might be moving," Stiles says, not looking at Scott.

Scott pauses with his spoon of cereal halfway to his mouth and says, "What?"

Stiles nods. "It's my dad. He really wants to go, and he's telling me I have to go with him."

"What's it for, like a job or something?" Scott asks.

"No," Stiles says. He looks at Scott. "Look, if I had a secret, a big one, like you do being a werewolf and all, would you freak out?"

"Dude, I already know you're bi," Scott says with a smirk.

Stiles huffs a laugh. "Not that, but… yeah. That, too. Wait, that's nothing like being a werewolf, dude, what the fuck?"

Scott shrugs. "Okay. So, what. You're a werepony?"

"I'm being serious here," Stiles says, trying not to smile.

"So am I," Scott says.

"Ugh. Okay, shut up a minute. I'm from another planet," Stiles says.

"Stilesworld?" Scott says. "Yeah, I know."

"No. Another planet. As in … I'm an alien," Stiles says. He _hates_ that word.

Scott laughs. "Oh, yeah? Where's your ship, then, spaceboy?"

"Buried in the forest, where we crashed," Stiles says.

"Knock it off," Scott says. "Your heartbeat's not..." He looks confused.

"Yeah. I'm not lying," Stiles says, then sighs. "And now my dad wants us to go back to our home planet."

"Back up. I'm still stuck on the outer space part," Scott says. "How come you don't look like an alien?"

"Because I'm a shapeshifter. I can change myself to look like any sentient species," Stiles says.

"So … this is just you pretending to look human?" Scott asks.

Stiles bites his lip. He's not so sure about the tone of Scott's voice. "Yeah."

"So the whole time I've known you, you've been pretending to be something you're not?" Scott asks, his voice climbing higher.

"It's not like that," Stiles says.

"No, I think it's exactly like that," Scott says. "Get out."

"What?" Stiles asks, shocked. He used to think Scott might react negatively, but since the werewolf thing, not so much.

"You heard me. Just go," Scott says.

"You're a freaking _werewolf_!" Stiles says. "How can you hold this against me?"

"Because I never hid it from you!" Scott says.

"You don't understand!" Stiles says. But Scott is pushing him out physically, toward the door and then outside.

Scott slams the door behind Stiles after he pushes him out onto the lawn. Stiles stays there, numb, for a full minute. Then he gathers himself together and decides to go to the one person who seems to understand him.

* * *

"You're here early," Derek says. "I thought you were going to talk to your dad?"

"I did," Stiles says softly, walking closer. He wants to fling himself into Derek's arms.

"You smell like Scott. What happened?"

"With which one?" Stiles asks. "Dad put his foot down and basically ordered me back to Selexis and Scott... Scott threw me out of his house when I told him what I was."

"I didn't know you were going to tell Scott," Derek says, his voice neutral.

Stiles walks past Derek and collapses on the comfy couch Stiles found for him on Craigslist. He puts his head in his hands. "I figured you took it really well, and Scott's supposed to be my best friend, so why wouldn't _he_?"

"But he didn't," Derek says.

Stiles sighs. "No. Not even close."

Derek moves to sit beside him and puts a hand on Stiles's back, right between where his tentacles would be. He rubs small circles, and Stiles wonders where he learned how to be comforting, because he's actually pretty good at it when he tries. Derek says, "Tell me about your dad first."

"Not much to tell," Stiles says, leaning against Derek's side. He relaxes and after a moment, decides to change halfway. He feels his skin change to its opalescent appearance. He reaches for Derek's hand and Derek doesn't hesitate to hold on.

"So he's still not giving you a choice?" Derek asks.

"I think that's the worst part," Stiles says. "I don't even know what I'd choose if the choice was mine. But it should be mine; this is my life, and it affects _everything_."

"How old do you have to be in … in your culture? To be an adult, I mean," Derek asks.

"You know, I don't even remember?" Stiles says. "I've been playing human for so long that I don't even know. See, that's what I tried to tell him, too. That I've been human longer than I was Selexin. And that I wouldn't fit in on Selexis."

Derek nods. "What did he say to that?"

"That I can't turn off my species and just suddenly be human," Stiles answers. "That I can't hide from who I am, basically."

"He's right; you'll always be Selexin," Derek says. "Just like I'll always be a werewolf. But that doesn't mean you can't have another side to yourself. You can embrace Earth — you already have. And humanity. You're human, even if your dad says otherwise, because there's a lot more to humanity than biology."

And it's in this moment that Stiles realizes that he's fallen hopelessly in love with Derek Hale.

"Thanks," Stiles says softly.

"Are you okay? Your heart just started pounding," Derek says.

Stiles shrugs and leans in to kiss him. They kiss slowly, as if they have all the time in the world, when in fact they only have a week. 

Finally, Derek pulls back and says, "Tell me about Scott, now."

"I'd rather be kissing you," Stiles says, but he sighs and goes on. "Scott's mad that I hid it from him for so long."

Derek nods. "He'll come around. He's just hurt right now."

"He actually pushed me out of his house, right onto the lawn," Stiles says. "And slammed the door! I had thought that maybe, if you took it well, that he would, too."

"I understand the need to hide," Derek says. "I hid it from everyone but my family, all my life, until..." He trails off and looks away.

"What happened?" Stiles asks, though he thinks he knows.

Derek sounds emotionally detached when he says, "I fell in love and told her about me. About my family. And then she killed them."

Stiles hadn't known for sure that Kate Argent and Derek had been together before the fire. He had suspicions, but no proof to back it up. But now he knows the truth. And the undercurrent, the words not spoken, they're telling him that Derek blames himself.

Stiles doesn't know what to say, but he can pull Derek into his arms and hold on to him.

"Sorry," Derek says quietly after a few minutes. He lets go of Stiles, though he seems reluctant.

"What are you even apologizing for?" Stiles looks into Derek's face, wishing he understood how the man's mind worked.

"I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No," Stiles says, placing a flat palm over Derek's heart. "You can tell me anything."

Derek lifts his eyes slowly and looks at him. "I know."

"And it goes both ways, so," Stiles says with a little shrug. "I'll tell you the truth: I don't know what to do. I don't want to leave and never come back. I don't know if I want to leave, period."

"Is coming back an option?" Derek asks.

Stiles shrugs again. "I don't know. Dad wants us to go back to Selexis and probably stay. I could leave when I became a legal adult, but … that's more time than I'm willing to stay."

"Why do you want to come back?" Derek asks. "Have you thought about your reasons for wanting to be on Earth?"

Nerves make Stiles look away. "Yeah. Well. People. Scott, when he's not being an asswipe, is my best friend. I don't want to leave him — or the rest of the pack, for that matter. We're like a family."

Derek nods. 

"And you," Stiles says softly. Leaving Derek behind would be like tearing something loose from himself.

"Don't stay for me," Derek says. 

"If you tell me you're not worth it, I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth," Stiles says, only half joking.

"We don't even know if this between us is going to last," Derek says. "You shouldn't make a choice based on what might not even happen."

"Shut up," Stiles says. "Maybe we won't get wolf-married and adopt tiny werebabies, but you'll always be important to me. There's no getting rid of me once I latch on."

Derek snorts. "Wolf-married? Werebabies? Where do you come up with this stuff?"

"I have a very active fantasy life," Stiles mumbles.

"And these are the things you fantasize about?" Derek asks. His eyes are clear and more human than Stiles has ever seen them. He looks strangely vulnerable this way. Like asking this question is opening him up to some kind of hurt.

But Stiles would never hurt Derek intentionally. Not anymore. "Yeah, well."

"I haven't let myself think that far ahead," Derek says. "It's been enough to just have the here and now."

Stiles goes back to leaning against his chest and Derek wraps his arms around him. Stiles breathes easy. "The here and now is pretty good."

Derek is silent for a long time, seemingly content to just hold Stiles and nuzzle his neck. Then, after a time, he says, "I'd wait for you."

Stiles goes very still. He doesn't even breathe. "I don't know how long it would take."

"Still," Derek says. "I'd wait."

Turning around in Derek's arms to look at him, Stiles says, "Why?"

"You haven't figured it out?" Derek asks, looking back steadily.

Stiles watches him, studies his face. "I need to hear it, I think."

Derek gives him a hard look, frowning slightly. "I love you."

Stiles swallows hard. His voice is strangled when he says, "Yeah. Well, I love you, too."

Talking about their feelings is apparently something they do now.

"Do you think I should go, then?" Stiles asks. "Go and come back, I mean."

"I think this is who you are, and you should give Selexis a chance," Derek says.

"Would you really wait for me?" Stiles asks.

"Shh," Derek says, and kisses him again. It's enough to make Stiles's doubts disappear. Derek loves him, loves _him_ , and that's all that matters.

* * *

"So I've decided not to run away and act like an idiot," Stiles says.

His dad looks relieved. "Good."

"How old do I have to be to be an adult on Selexis?" Stiles asks.

"You really don't know?" his dad asks.

"I've been trying to tell you — I'm pretty much all human now, you know?" Stiles says. "I don't remember much about that life."

His father shakes his head. "It's about the same as here, around eighteen Earth years."

"So less than a year?" Stiles asks. It's longer than he'd like, but it's better than it could've been. He'd been bracing himself for something ridiculous, like twenty-five or thirty.

"Why are you asking?" his dad asks.

Stiles lifts his chin. "Because I'm coming back here when I'm old enough."

"Son, I don't think you understand what going back to Selexis means for your future. You can do anything, become whatever you like. There are no limits," his dad says.

"Funny, I thought that's what it was like _here_ ," Stiles says. "What have I been getting straight A's for?"

"But the whole universe is open to you now," his father says. "Why would you want to stay here?"

Stiles shrugs. "I have a place here."

"But you could have a place anywhere," his dad says.

" _Dad_ ," Stiles says, getting angry. "Stop it. I've decided."

"You'll change your mind once we get back home," his dad says.

"I really won't," Stiles says. "I'm coming back. Earth _is_ my home."

"I understand that this is all you know, all you remember," his dad says slowly. "But think of the family we have on Selexis. Your mother's parents, your aunt — you probably have cousins by now."

Stiles hasn't thought of them in years. Family has only been him and his dad for so long. No, that's not exactly true. Stiles has the pack. "I have a family here. A family we made."

"Scott and the rest of your friends? You're just kids," his dad says. "They don't even know about you."

"I'm going to tell them," Stiles says.

"You can't be serious," his dad says. "You can't. We've hidden this from the world for ten years, you can't just _tell_ people."

"Not yet," Stiles says. "But when I get back. I've already told Scott."

"When?" his dad asks.

"Recently," Stiles says. "He didn't take it as well as I thought he would-"

"Because you told him you're an alien!" his dad shouts.

Stiles winces. "He'll get over it. I know he will."

"What makes you think that?" his dad asks.

"Past experience," Stiles says.

"And if he tells someone? Do you know how much danger you put us in with this?" his dad says.

"He's not going to tell," Stiles says.

His father gives him a look that says 'I don't' believe you but I'm going to drop it now'. "Well, it won't matter much, soon." He sighs and runs a hand over his face. It's a very human motion.

"You might change _your_ mind about Selexis," Stiles says. "Maybe you'll come back with me. I'd miss you, you know."

His dad laughs but there's no joy in it. "I'd miss you too, kiddo."

* * *

"You didn't need to call a whole meeting for this," Stiles mutters to Derek as the pack files in. They all sit around in a circle in Derek's living room and wait for some kind of cue.

"You're pack and this is important," Derek says under his breath. Then louder, "Stiles has a few things to say."

"Wait, what?" Stiles says. "I thought _you_ were gonna- Shit."

Derek smirks at him. Stiles is totally making him pay for that later.

He looks around the room and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"What's up, Batman?" Erica asks. She looks worried. They all do, except for Scott. Scott's looking everywhere but at him.

Stiles looks to Derek for courage. Derek nods and Stiles says, "So, I'm going to be leaving Beacon Hills. For about ten months, maybe longer."

"Where are you doing?" Lydia asks. "What about school?"

"I'll probably have to do 12th grade over in order to graduate," Stiles says, mostly musing to himself. "I won't be back in time for summer school."

Lydia gapes. "There's no school where you're going?" 

Stiles bites his lip. "I can't really tell you where I'm gonna be." He looks at Derek.

"You don't trust us?" Isaac asks.

"Of course I trust you. You're my pack, all of you," Stiles says. He's not naturally a pack-minded individual, but he's a family kind of guy. And the pack is his family. "But there are some things I have to wait to say. I want to tell you, but-" Scott is looking at him now. He's scowling, but it's a softer anger than Stiles saw on his face when he first told him.

"But?" Boyd asks, looking from Stiles to Scott and back again.

"I haven't been completely honest with all of you," Stiles says quietly. "I should probably tell you all now and then let you have time to deal with it while I'm away..."

"You don't have to," Derek murmurs.

Stiles gives him a small smile and turns back to the group. "But I don't want any of you to hate me while I'm gone. I want you to, you know, remember me in a good light."

"You sound like you're about to die or something," Jackson says. "What's really going on?"

It's Scott who speaks up. "Nobody's going to hate you, Stiles. They might be mad but it'll blow over."

Stiles looks at him. "Are you...?"

"Still pissed off," Scott says. "But you're my best friend."

"Would somebody tell us what the hell is going on?" Erica says. "Obviously Derek and Scott know, but what about the rest of us?"

Derek gives Stiles a meaningful look, and Stiles reads it as, 'This is your decision.' Stiles sighs and rolls his sleeves up. He lets the partial change ripple through his skin, turning it opalescent once more.

Almost everyone moves closer to get a better look. Stiles holds his arms out as they crowd around him.

"What are you?" Lydia asks.

If only that was an easy question to answer. Stiles feels human, no matter what form he takes. He says, "I'm from a planet called Selexis. It's in another galaxy."

"Get out," Lydia says, her eyes wide. 

"No fucking way," Isaac says. Jackson says the same thing. Erica is silent.

Boyd asks, "What are you doing on Earth?"

"We crashed here about ten years ago," Stiles answers. "Just me and my mom and dad."

"And now you're leaving...?" Lydia asks.

"My dad and I are going back to Selexis," Stiles says. "But I'm coming back once I'm old enough."

He can tell there are a lot more questions, but he's tired. Apparently Derek can see that, so he cuts everyone off and shoos them out the door. He's calm, though, and it spreads out over their pack bond. No one is freaking out and no one is angry yet. 

Before he goes, Scott slaps Stiles lightly on the shoulder. "We'll talk before you leave?"

Stiles gives him a smile, feeling hopeful. "Yeah."

After everyone is gone, Derek doesn't hesitate to take Stiles into his arms. He buries his nose in his neck and breathes in. Stiles holds on tightly, not wanting to let go. Not wanting to lose Derek.

"Promise you'll wait," Stiles whispers. "That we can have this when I get back."

Derek pulls away just enough to look into Stiles's eyes. "I promise. I want a future with you."

Stiles leans in and kisses him then. "Tell me you're not going to make us go slow tonight."

Derek's eyes glow red for a moment, and then he's kissing Stiles breathless and manhandling him up the stairs to his bedroom. His hands are everywhere, practically tearing Stiles's hoodie and shirt off. Stiles moans and holds on to whatever he can — Derek's shoulders, his biceps, around his neck. They topple to the bed, both of them shirtless now, skin against skin.

Derek growls and takes Stiles's shoes, jeans and underwear off with quick, fluid motions. Then he rolls Stiles over onto his belly. "Show me," he says, touching Stiles's back.

Stiles lets the full change come over him, tentacles growing out, long and wandering. Derek touches, gently, then bows his head to lick around where they grow out of Stiles's back. Those places are extremely sensitive, and Stiles moans loudly. Then Derek is licking down his spine to the crack of his ass and Stiles can feel his eyes widen.

"You don't have to, um, oh my _god_ ," Stiles says as Derek spreads him open and licks across his hole.

"Mmmm," Derek says, like he's really enjoying himself. His tongue is magic. It feels flat one moment and pointed the next. It drives Stiles wild.

"No, really," Stiles gasps, his cock rubbing against the sheets as he wriggles in place. His tentacles wrap around the back of Derek's head and neck, holding on. One part of him is embarrassed by the attention to his ass and the other part of him, the vocal part, is crying out for more.

Derek's probably smirking right about now. Stiles can practically feel it in the air. 

"Hold still," Derek says, and Stiles realizes he's been rocking back, trying to fuck himself on Derek's tongue. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Stiles can't speak. He nods. Yes, yes, what kind of question is that?

"Tell me, Stiles."

He has to find his tongue. It's in his mouth somewhere. "I want you to fuck me," Stiles finally manages to say.

Derek growls, a pleased rumble. And then he's gently unwrapping tentacles from around his neck and then rummaging through his side table.

"Condom?" Derek asks, throwing a bottle of lube on the bed next to Stiles.

Stiles has to think. It's not like Derek could catch or even carry a disease. The only consideration is cleanup. Stiles kind of likes the idea of Derek being in him without a barrier, coming inside him... "Nope," Stiles says. His throat feels sticky and dry.

Derek growls again and then his fingers — gentle but firm — are slicking over Stiles's hole. 

Stiles has done this to himself, he knows how to bear down when Derek presses inside. Derek rumbles again when Stiles takes two fingers, sounding horny and pleased.

"How do we do this?" Stiles asks breathlessly, turning his head so he can look over his shoulder. "I want to see you."

"You could ride me," Derek says in a rough voice. He twists his fingers and it makes Stiles think about coming right then.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Stiles breathes.

They manage to roll over and Stiles straddles Derek, looking down at him and feeling like a starving man at a deluxe buffet. 

"Let me..." Derek says, reaching around and teasing Stiles's ass with his fingers. "I need to-"

"No, you don't. Believe me, I'm ready," Stiles says. He grabs the lube and slicks Derek's cock, stroking for a few moments, watching the way Derek's eyes roll back and his eyelids flutter. Then he's lifting up and bearing down, taking Derek's cock inch by inch. It's slow going, and Stiles has to back off and then try again a couple of times. But then it really starts working, everything coming together perfectly, and Stiles is full, Derek buried inside him.

Derek makes a sound like Stiles has just broken him apart, and then Stiles begins to ride him. Slow, so slow at first, dragging every moan out of Derek that he can. Stlies's hands are planted on Derek's chest, but it's not enough and Stiles huffs with frustration.

"Need you closer," Stiles pants, urging Derek to sit up. They rearrange themselves so that Stiles is in Derek's lap, still riding him, a little more shallow but perfect because now Stiles can kiss Derek and wrap around him with arms and tentacles and keep his overly hot body as close as possible.

" _Stiles_ ," Derek says, like he's the one being split open and exposed. Stiles pulls back a little to look into his eyes. They're wide with something that looks like awe and dark with lust, and it makes Stiles shiver and clench around him.

Derek wriggles his hand between them and wraps it around Stiles's neglected cock, making him gasp with pleasure. One of Stiles's lower tentacles slips down and around, teasing Derek's crack with slick, bold exploration.

" _Stiles_ ," Derek says again; this time his voice is shaky and Stiles again wishes for telepathy.

"Hmm?" Stiles asks, sliding down on his cock and clenching around it.

"God, Stiles. Can you- Can we do that?" Derek asks.

Stiles stills and looks into Derek's face, reading what he sees there. He lets his tentacle slick down and over Derek's hole just to see Derek's expression. 

Derek moans and rolls them to their sides, still buried in Stiles's ass, but in a better position for reciprocation. Stlies's mind is blown, only barely grasping that Derek wants to be fucked in return. But Stiles's lower tentacles are thick and Derek needs to be prepped. So Stiles reaches as far as he can and scrambles for the lube with his fingertips. 

"You want me to..." Stiles asks, and Derek gives a short nod. He seems overwhelmed by what's happening, like it's too much to speak about.

Stiles opens him up slowly, dragging moans out of Derek's mouth that sound like pure sex. 

He's never done this before. This is the first sex Stiles has ever had, and now he's going to involve parts of him he's kept hidden from the world entirely. He's self-conscious and so turned on he might come before Derek gets what he's asking for. 

"C'mon, Stiles, _please_ ," Derek says breathlessly.

And then they're moving together again, Derek fucking into Stiles, Stiles slowly pushing into Derek, so that they're both giving and taking, back and forth in a rhythm Stiles can't get enough of. They aren't kissing, but their foreheads are pressed together and their breath is commingling hotly and their eyes flutter open from time to time so that they can stare at each other. Staring is pretty much all Stiles can do — that, and moan. 

Then Derek says, "Deeper," and Stiles can do that. It takes his breath away but he can do it.

Their legs are ridiculous, Stiles thinks vaguely. Bent and tangled and angled in weird ways. But Stiles is limber and Derek has the whole werewolf thing going on, so they make it work.

Then Stiles stops thinking about their legs because Derek is clenching around his tentacle and the feeling goes to his dick, which is being stroked by Derek's hand, while his other hand wanders to where his cock is in Stiles's ass. Derek teases the rim, not pushing, just touching, and it's enough to send Stiles over the edge.

He comes, spurting between them, a choked cry escaping his mouth. Derek kisses him through it, so there's no breath at all, just dizzy ecstasy. 

Derek slips out of him slowly and then rolls onto his back, Stiles on top of him, coming back to himself and realizing Derek still needs to come. His cock is a deep purplish-red and leaking precome, and his face is strained and his hands are grabby.

"Fuck me, Stiles," he says, and Stiles lifts Derek's knees gently, leans down to kiss him while he fucks him with a thick, slick tentacle. The sounds are obscene, pumping and slurping, but what's even better are the sounds from Derek's mouth. He moans and whimpers and _begs_.

Stiles's upper tentacles explore Derek's chest and nipples while his other lower tentacle wraps around Derek's cock tightly. Derek lets out a low noise, and Stiles can tell he's close.

"I want to keep you just like this," Stiles whispers against Derek's mouth. "Right on the edge, fucking and touching you, just so I can watch, because you're so beautiful. You look … I can't even explain it. You look like you're _mine_."

Derek's eyes are even wider and more vulnerable now, and he says, "Please."

Stiles knows he could never ignore a plea like that from Derek, so he nods and strokes and fucks and kisses him, saying, "C'mon, I want to see you come."

Derek moans long and low, and then he stills entirely when he comes.

Stiles slowly pulls out of him and unwraps from around his softening cock. Then he settles down beside him, head on Derek's shoulder, and marvels at the way the universe works.

Arms wrap around him and Stiles wraps right back, arms and tentacles both. He can't get close enough. Derek doesn't seem to mind. He's making a noise, a low, content rumble. His arms are tight, though, like he's afraid of letting go. Maybe Stiles is afraid of that, too.

Stiles breaks the silence and says, "I wish I didn't have to go."

Derek sighs and shakes his head. "Part of you wants to go. It's okay."

"I promise I'll come back," Stiles says. 

Derek looks at him and cups his cheek. "I'd accept it if you decided you'd be happier there."

"Stop it," Stiles says. "There's nowhere I'd rather be than here. The pack and you — you're my home."

"And your dad?" Derek asks.

"I'm hoping he'll come back with me. I don't want to leave him behind, so far away," Stiles says. "But I will if I have to."

Derek kisses him then, soft and sweet, like Stiles is something precious and he's afraid to break him, despite the fact that they've just had hard and heavy sex.

"I'll wait for you," Derek says. "You have no idea how long I'd wait for you."

Stiles smiles and nuzzles his cheek, Derek's stubble scratching against his skin. "You won't have to wait forever. I'll come back to you. I _love_ you."

Derek searches his face and says, "I love you, too." His voice is just so earnest that it makes Stiles want to cry. He buries his face in Derek's neck, instead. 

They drift off together, still holding onto each other tightly.

* * *

Stiles looks out at the sky after the sun on Selexis has gone down. The moons aren't out yet and it's just the stars in the sky. He's not sure which star points home; he's not as good at that sort of thing as his mom was. It could be that one, or that one, or one of a million others. 

"Son? You okay?" his dad asks as he comes out on the balcony. They're both wearing Selexin clothes, long robe-like garments the color of Earth's sky on a clear summer day. They're loose and have slits in the back for freedom, but Stiles misses jeans. He misses a lot of things.

"Just looking at the stars," Stiles says. "Missing home."

His dad sighs. "We've only been here a month. You haven't given Selexis a chance."

"No, I have. I like it here, it's gorgeous and we have family, and a lot more conveniences, I _know_ ," Stiles says. "But it's not home."

His father is silent for several moments. Then he asks, "You're set on going back, still?"

"As soon as I can," Stiles says. He looks up at the sky again, sees that one of Selexis's moons is coming out, and that it's full. It reminds him of the pack, of family. Of Derek.

"Give it a little more time here," his dad says. "Another month. If you still want to go back, you can. We'll go together."

Stiles whips around and looks at him, his jaw dropping. "Seriously?" he manages to say.

"Yes," his dad says.

Stiles almost knocks him over with the force of his hug.

* * *

A month and two days later, Stiles asks his dad if he can beam down directly into the forest.

"If you really think you should," his dad says. "Sure. I'll be at the house." The house they didn't sell, just left closed up.

The transport ship beams Stiles close to the Hale house, and Stiles — Stiles _runs_ to get there. He runs so fast his lungs are straining and his legs feel like they might fall off.

He can't call out, he doesn't have enough air for that, but Derek must hear him coming because he's at the front door looking out when Stiles rounds the bend in the trail and then Derek is racing toward him, faster than Stiles, so fast it's like a blink but still feels like an eternity.

Then Derek has his arms wrapped around Stiles and is holding him so close Stiles can't breathe again, but who needs breath when there's _this_? 

Derek kisses him like he wants to eat him up, and Stiles kisses back with just as much fervor. 

_Home_ , Stiles thinks. He's finally home.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for "I Was a Teenage Tentacle Alien"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/773519) by [mific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific)
  * [I Was a Teenage Tentacle Alien [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940970) by [InkSound (BearHatter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearHatter/pseuds/InkSound)




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